


Owning Certainty

by Karios



Category: Salvation (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, F/M, Huntington's Disease, Kissing, Post-Canon, Relationship Discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 03:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20369992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/pseuds/Karios
Summary: With the planet safe for now, Grace, Darius, and Harris can finally contemplate their personal futures. It proves difficult.





	Owning Certainty

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warning: Grace and Darius discuss his Huntington's in here, which is why it's in the tags.
> 
> Special thanks to Ashling.

Grace knew sometime in the days, weeks, or as she secretly hoped, months, ahead that everyone in Darius's circle will be drawn back into the thick of whatever crises come from the post-asteroid fallout. But for the moment, in this brief little bubble of time, they can be just Darius and Grace.

Darius seized the opportunity to be jealous.

Grace should have expected that.

"You're still wearing Harris's ring," Darius said, the words dripping with accusation as though that's evidence of anything.

"Really, Darius? Are we really doing this?"

"Yes, we are!" And it took the sound reverberating off the walls of her home for Grace to realize they'd both been shouting. How long had they been shouting?

She yanked off the ring and threw it like a child. "Happy now?"

"Not particularly, no."

"I think it might have helped a little," she admitted to him, though she wasn't sure why. That wasn't new. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt really sure of anything. That was what made Darius's questions about her relationship with Harris so hard.

So of course Darius asked again, "Why did you accept Harris's proposal in the first place?" Only this time he followed it up with, "Did you stop believing in me?"

"No," she whispered fiercely. "Never. If I'd given up hope, I wouldn't have been topside," she pointed out.

Darius countered that with, "Harris wasn't in the bunker either."

"It had nothing–" she cut herself off, and took a deep breath. She didn't want to start yelling again. "It had nothing to do with him," Grace said, more calmly this time. "When the opportunity for a bunker slot came up, I had to take it, for Zoey and her baby."

"Worthless if we succeeded," Darius sneered.

"But if we failed, and even before you ended up in a coma, you'd admitted there was a chance we could fail, I needed to give her the best possible shot. No matter what."

"So, you expect me to believe that _getting married_ to a man you once loved was undertaken with all the emotional weight of purchasing a life insurance policy?"

"Yes. Because it was, for me. Can I answer any more burning questions, Darius? We waited in a line with dozens of other sets of two who had decided tying the knot would somehow make the end of days easier to bear. It took minutes. We signed the paperwork. The judge read very standard vows. Harris slipped the ring on and smiled as though making a business transaction out of his dreams wasn't utterly killing him."

"You feel guilty," Darius said with disgust, as though guilt was a nuisance she should have eliminated by now to make room for something more practical. Given the way Darius lived his own life, perhaps he had.

"Yes, Darius, I did and I do. For being another in a growing line of women who used Harris Edwards's kindness for personal gain."

Darius made some sort of noncommittal noise, and for half a second Grace thought it was over. Then Darius asked, "did he kiss you at this non-wedding of yours?"

"Yes, and not that it's any of your business, but he actually apologized afterward."

It was that memory most of all Grace wished she could beam directly into Darius's brain. The look on Harris's face as he'd said, "Don't worry. It was just for appearances."

But she couldn't and didn't, and Darius was still standing there, staring at her, angry and expectant. Grace just wanted to be away from him. So she crossed to the front door and let herself out.

Grace got as far as the end of her own driveway before she sunk to her knees in the grass. The sky was blue overhead and the grass still green and earthy beneath her and she was awestruck by how normal it almost seemed.

But it was only almost normal, because had she decided at this time last year to collapse to all fours in her front lawn, someone would have, at the bare minimum, asked what was wrong.

Instead, they already knew exactly what was wrong. Because it's the same, more or less for everyone, everywhere.

Everything.

* * *

For all that Darius was, good and bad, he was not an idiot.

He knew, well before Grace slammed the front door and left him standing alone in the middle of her sitting room, that he'd been out of line.

That hadn't stopped him. Of course it hadn't stopped him. Why would it?

He scanned the room for the discarded ring, pocketed it, and then shuffled his way outside, leaving Grace's door ajar.

He found her still dry heaving into her lawn. He wished he could haul her to her feet and usher her back inside, but he conceded he didn't have the strength for that, and opted to collapse next to her instead.

He made some kind of noise as he hit the ground; a sound that made Grace's eyes dart over to meet his, hers filled with concern.

"I'm fine," he assured her.

"You'd say that even if you weren't," retorted Grace.

"Yes, well, it's true this time."

Grace sort of grunted in acknowledgement, and they both lie there breathing for what felt like an eternity after months of constant motion and urgency, his days in a coma notwithstanding.

Finally, Darius cracked open the silence. "The clock's still ticking for me, Grace. Everyone, well most of everyone," he amended quickly. He's not the only one with a terminal illness on the face of the Earth. "They have full lives ahead."

"I don't care about everyone else. Dammit, Darius," she said, the words full of exasperation.

"I won't be here to see Zoey's child graduate from high school."

"You don't know that."

"You're right," he said with a sardonic little smile. "I probably won't be here when she starts Grade Six."

"Stop," she pleaded, the word soft, barely an exhalation of breath.

He continued on as though he hadn't heard her. "I took a lot of damage. The waterboarding, the drugs, the sonic torture." He didn't bother to include the rest of his bad choices, the days without sleep or food, the constant pressure. "Who knows how many of my years I burned through in the past few months."

Grace scrabbled the last few inches toward him. She pulled him into her arms and he can feel her damp blouse pressed up against his side. It must have rained last night.

"I should have explained why I wanted you to tell me about you and Harris," Darius admitted finally.

Grace laughed, but it was mirthless. "Yes, you should. Especially because I asked. Three times."

"I wanted to be sure there wasn't any way...that I wasn't taking you from..." Here he was trying to be honest and vulnerable, and still forcing the words out was too big a blow to his pride.

Grace tried and failed to finish the half sentence Darius wasn't saying, and then something in her just broke. "Harris arranged for the wedding the same day you'd gotten captured. I begged him off and he pushed it back as far as he could. A whole week."

Darius considered cutting in with a joke about how a week didn't sound very long, but thought better of it and Grace picked up the thread again on her own.

"A week of me watching, hoping, waiting."

* * *

"Grace, I'm sorry I really am, but if you want Zoey to have a spot, today's the day," Harris had said. "Believe me, I wish we could keep waiting on Darius too."

Grace had shot him a sharp look.

"No, really, I do. We could use an insane plan right about now." Harris had scrubbed a hand in front of his face. He'd radiated exhaustion, but still managed to smile when Grace got up and followed him.

* * *

"Grace?" Darius's voice beckoned.

She snapped out of the memory. "Hm?"

"You were very far away just now," he informed her.

"Anyway, Harris finally had to ask me to save the one piece of Dylan he had left. I mean, we didn't know yet. I considered the proposal for Zoey, but in the end I went through with the wedding because I couldn't do that to Harris. Not on top of everything else."

Darius just nodded, the tips of his hair tickle along her throat.

"For newlyweds, we didn't see much of each other. Met for a couple of meals. Talked. Cried."

"Fell into bed at least once," Darius surmised.

Grace hadn't remembered how angry she'd been at Darius for that, his tendency to assume. It mixed with the anger she still held against him for the way he left her alone as the days piled up and simultaneously dwindled to nothing. "You weren't there!"

"Not by choice," he said. He pressed a kiss to the place where Grace's neck met her shoulder, then pulled back enough to look at her. "And that's my point, Grace, if you have a chance to be happy with Harris..."

"Harris was and is a consolation prize. He deserves better, Darius. And god, maybe we do too." Grace rolled away from him then, stood. It was Grace who helped him up. In all things, she remained surprisingly strong.

Darius didn't admit he was glad that Harris was there for her. Darius didn't confess that he was used to being not good enough. Not for dear Uncle Nick, or beautiful Tess, or hell even Liam by the end. He made a mess of every relationship he touched, and it still shocked him Grace couldn't see that. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to remind her that he's the one who was supposed to end up alone. "Maybe," he agreed.

Grace wondered what else was going on behind that tortured expression Darius had fixed on her, and simultaneously, somewhere beyond her. But, she couldn't find it in herself to ask any more than Darius could find it in himself to say. She gave him the out instead. "Headache?"

He nodded at the half truth and the world swam with the motion. He resisted the urge to reach for her to steady him.

They headed back inside, lingered at the foyer.

"There are no heroes in an apocalypse. No heroes that survive anyway," Grace declared, apropos of nothing.

Darius shrugged. "That's true of someone like President Mackenzie, but certainly not of Claire Rayburn." He noticed Grace still shuddered at the sound of her name.

Darius needed Grace, yes, but she needed him too. Here and now. Darius had been so busy considering decades and lifetimes, he'd neglected to consider the present. How quickly he'd forgotten that every moment was precious.

Crossing through to the kitchen, he turned on a burner, set a skillet down, fetched the eggs. He glanced back at Grace.

She threw him a questioning look.

"Making you breakfast." He smiled. "A few months later than planned."

Grace fetched a cutting board. "I'll help."

Darius should have known she would.

He returned the ring to her over omelets. "Far be it from me to give advice on human interaction, but," he began, curling her fingers around the band. "I think you should talk to Harris."

* * *

Against Grace's better judgement, she took that advice, and though getting around the White House wasn't as quick as it used to be, she was eventually led into Harris's office.

Harris looked up from his desk, and his face brightened at the sight of her. "Here to see the Secretary of Defense or your husband?" he asked. The words and the hopeful light in his eyes hurt.

"Closer to the latter." She held the ring out to him. "I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate everything you've done."

"But you have Darius back." Harris's eyes narrowed, zoning in on the jewelry. "I don't need the pity. Keep it."

She set the ring on his desk. "No."

"It was only an arrangement," Harris said, as he had a few days earlier. Still convincing himself, Grace thought. "And I still don't want you to apologize."

"Okay." Grace crossed over to the window, looked out over Washington. The city she'd known so well, where so much and nothing at all was the same. "A lot of rebuilding to do," she said.

"Yeah. For all of us. But, all the rebuilding in the world means nothing if no one's able to appreciate it."

She spun to face him. "What are you saying?"

"Go home, Grace. Whatever permission you need, or forgiveness you're searching for, you've got it. You, and Darius, saved billions of people. If the two of you don't deserve to be happy, then nobody does."

"Thank you." She made her way back over to him.

He pulled her in for a hug. It was not a goodbye; they were still family, after all.

"If you're giving that back, he better marry you," Harris said, as he stepped back to let Grace go. "Just don't ask me to be best man."

She laughed and the sound of it made them both smile. "I won't. How do you feel about matron of honor?"

He laughed now, even as he waved her off. "Go. I have an annulment to file and work to do." At her look, he added, "I'm fine, Grace. Really."

* * *

Back at home, Grace was surprised to find Darius waiting for her.

Darius delighted in it. "I'm glad to see I can still keep you on your toes, even when the world isn't facing imminent destruction."

"I'd just thought you'd be back to Tanz by now," she said and stepped in close for a lengthy kiss.

"With incentive like this," he said when they broke apart, "I'm learning to see the value of taking it easy more often." He kissed her again, his fingers tangled in her hair.

"How did it go with Harris?" Darius asked.

"Sorted out. Ring returned, paperwork underway, and believe it or not, he’s happy for us."

"That _is_ hard to believe."

"He even made me promise to marry you." Her tone was light, teasing, and a stark contrast to the horror that slowly spread across Darius’s face.

"No." He stepped out of her arms, backed away toward the sink. "Absolutely not."

"Okay." She drew out the word a little, her forehead wrinkling. "We don't have to get married. I had no idea you were so against it."

"I'm not, not generally speaking."

"Just personally?" she clarified.

He nodded.

"Wow. Okay. Wow."

Grace seemed disinclined to say anything else so Darius spoke up, "I hadn't intended for you to break up with Harris permanently."

"You what? What exactly did you think giving his ring back was going to do? No, wait, better question: what the hell do you want, Darius?"

"You, for the next several years, until..." He still couldn’t force out the words but he didn't have to.

Instead Grace gasped as the realization hit her like a strong gust of wind. "Until it starts getting bad, is that it?" He didn't nod, or move, or even breathe, but Grace knew she was right anyway. "What then? You dump me, and...and sequester yourself at Tanz and just wait for the end?"

"I’ve made arrangements," he defended. He might as well have said yes.

"How can you think I’d let that happen?" she asked softly.

"Simple. It’s not your call to make."

"It’s not your call to decide what’s too big a burden for me to take on!" she shouted back. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

"I love you enough to not want to be _your_ burden," he replied. "Are you even remotely aware of what you're signing up for? Because I am, Grace, and it's not pretty."

"Not exactly," she admitted. It wasn't relevant until now.

"Involuntary muscle movements, difficulty with balance and coordination, increasingly needing help with even the most basic of activities."

"We can hire people to help with all of that," Grace said, but Darius wasn't done.

"My speech will slur to the point I can't communicate. My thoughts, all of my thoughts, buzzing around my head like a swarm of bees unable to escape the prison of my lips, but that's okay because my mind will begin shutting down piece by bloody piece until it forgets something vital like how to signal the muscles needed to expand and contract my lungs." His voice had slowly risen, each word a little angrier than the last and he clutched at his hair, tugging hard.

"I don't know what to say."

"You haven't heard the best part. Huntington’s does something kind amongst all this mind rearranging. It makes you into such a raging asshole that those who love you most are relieved when you're gone."

"How would I tell the difference?" she joked, needing to dispel the tension.

"This isn't funny!"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. Look, whatever choices you need to make in a year, in five years, or in twenty, I want to be here. Please, let me be here to help." Her voice broke and the tears that had been threatening for the past few minutes now rolled down her cheeks in earnest.

When Darius spoke again all the fire and anger was gone. "I don't know. I rather like you seeing me as a hero."

Grace shook her head, sniffling. "You stopped the end of the world. You’re always going to be my hero."

"When did you get so stubborn?" Darius asked, fondness in the words. He stepped forward to draw her against his chest.

"Well, about six months ago I met a man. An impossible, brilliant, charming, sexy, and terribly persuasive man who convinced me that I could do anything I set my mind to."

"Did he?" Darius bent to kiss a trail up along her throat, her jaw, behind one ear. He shifted, and wiped away the tracks of tears on Grace's cheeks with his thumbs.

"Yes, and I’ve decided I won't let him go. Not without one hell of a fight."

"Okay," Darius conceded, pressing kisses to her cheeks, and jaw, and then finally to her lips. "A problem for our future then."

"Our future." Grace smiled. "I love the sound of that."


End file.
